Pride Over Pity (9 page)

Doing laundry with Isaac

My heart may have belonged to Jordan, but there were pieces I never took back from Jo. Because of Isaac we had a deep connection and an intense shared history. For the first time since I found out I was pregnant, we were getting along smoothly. Because we had never learned how to be friends, we fell back into old habits and I cheated on Jordan with Jo. Even though I was deeply in love with Jordan, I selfishly wanted Jo to remain single. I had typical girl syndrome: I didn’t want Jo, but I also didn’t anyone else to be with him. One night, after he dropped Isaac off, we slept together. Jordan arrived home from work earlier than expected and he knew almost immediately what happened.

Cheating never leads to a happy ending. It certainly didn’t for us. Cheating on someone is a heavy burden, worse than any other mistake you can make in a relationship. Cheating is cold, selfish, and heartless. I had committed a cardinal sin in my book. You’d be surprised sometimes what you’re capable of. Jo and I were finished. We weren’t getting back together and the hook up didn’t signify a change in that. I wanted to work it out with Jordan so we tried to recover from the betrayal. There was the predictable breakup, and the even more predictable getting back together. I still deeply regret that I put Jordan in that position. He didn’t deserve to have an arrow shot through his heart only to have it ripped out again.

But, at the same time, Jordan was changing. When we first started dating, Jordan rarely drank, but now he was partying all the time. Since he was young and carefree, he had a right to do that, but I didn’t have that luxury, so I decided that we needed to break up permanently. In the year and a half that we were a couple, I took away a life’s worth of lessons about how to function in a healthy relationship. It was easily the most stable relationship I had ever been in and knowing I was capable of having that in my life was a blessing. I was sad I had to say goodbye to someone I considered to be such a great, dependable person. Now, there was nobody in my life I could depend on.

***

After Jordan and I broke up, I met I guy who had a detrimental effect on me. We were not dating, just casually seeing each other once in a while. We weren’t sexually active, so minds out of the gutter. Caleb had been asking me out on a date and I had finally said yes. After I had blown him off multiple times, I figured one date wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Just like most guys want sex, most girls want to be loved and I was no exception.

One night, Caleb came over to my apartment. He was plastered and insisted he needed to talk to me so I let him in. But he had no interest in talking. He pulled me into the bedroom and slammed me onto the bed, taking my clothes off roughly. I screamed and tried to shove him off, ordering him to stop touching me, but I was no match for his tall, muscular frame. His strength was so overpowering, I could barely move. I felt a tear and knew I was bleeding. When he finished, he left me in tears, screaming for him to leave.

I was in a state of shock. It felt like I was dead. The bloodstained sheets snapped me back to reality and I realized I wasn’t okay, even if I was still alive. I didn’t know what to do, so I called the only person I could trust. Jordan rushed me to the hospital. He wanted to know what had happened, but I couldn’t talk about it—not even to the doctors. I was so torn up inside, I needed stitches sewn with the thickest thread they could find. The pain was excruciating. My nerves were shot. Although the doctors knew what had happened to me, I wouldn’t give them permission to use the rape kit. I was set free—contrary to how I felt—to go home.

As Jordan drove me home, I was still in a state of shock. I wasn’t able to fully process what had just happened to me. Doing the right thing and reporting Caleb to the police never seemed like a viable option at the hospital. Fear had taken over. What would happen to me or to Caleb if I turned him in? Would he come after me for revenge? I was afraid of all the consequences. What’s even crueler was how I viewed myself. I was so disgusted, like it was
my
fault. I was a victim and classically accusing myself of having done something wrong. My usual strength and confidence vanished as fear took hold.

As days passed, the fear of seeing Caleb subsided and he never contacted me again. The damage he had done was obvious enough even to him, so he knew to stay far away. The trauma of having been raped ate away at me. Not speaking out or acknowledging how I had been violated meant that I was imprisoned by the weight of such a horrible secret. But keeping secrets with a smile was the way I had always lived. I didn’t know how to break out of the pattern.
Speak up. Have a voice
. I wanted to. I wanted to shout for every single woman who has ever been touched against her will. I’m the exact example of what not to do. Admitting that has been difficult for me.

In order not to reveal the darkness I was swimming in, there was a certain of level of dishonesty I had to achieve. Victims become numb to the world. I was lying to myself in so many different ways because I didn’t want to feel. Denial is a powerful thing. There was a kind of relief to pretending I lived in a world where I wasn’t a rape victim. In different shoes, I was free from the trauma of brutality. But if I allowed my mind to waver from the lie for even a second, it would all come crashing down on me. The experience caused me to withdraw, so that I could hide from this colossal secret.

Until now I have only told a handful of people about what happened. While I wasn’t brave enough to turn my rapist in at the time, I want to speak out now. I am a victim. Every victim deserves to be heard. If I could rewind time I would tell myself this. I hope that by sharing my story now, I might help someone who has been a victim of rape to find a voice to speak out. Please, no matter how frightened you are, no matter what your mind tells you, just do it. Don’t let anyone get away with the crime because you are worth so much more than that.

Chapter 11

Fixing My Fortune

On January 11, 2011 the first episode of Teen Mom 2 aired on MTV to an audience of 3.6 million viewers. The success of the show seemed to escalate overnight. No one predicted its potential to surpass ratings of similar reality show premiers, like the original
Teen Mom
. The bigger the show grew, the more Facebook friend requests I received. I was averaging at least a hundred per week.

But even as our fans and supporters multiplied, the critics were becoming harsher. The worst for me were the hateful comments on Twitter. There were tons of hateful posts judging me on my appearance and these trolls managed to find endlessly creative and hurtful ways to call me ugly. I even had a Twitter page dedicated to me titled, “Hulk Kail.” Some of the hate was generated from my actions on the show, like how I cheated on Jordan, but the rest of it was directed at my physical flaws. All that negativity and hate can be a heavy burden to carry, but I tried to rise above it rather than to allow it to drag me down.

Nevertheless, the media’s capacity to dig up every dirty little secret terrified me. Mostly, I was terrified they would get hold of the story of my abortion, which at that point I was not ready to share. I had no illusions about the lengths the tabloids would go to obtain a story—they had already begun contacting anyone who had a few degrees of separation from me.

Despite all that negativity, and on top of everything I was already struggling with, I managed to keep my head held high—even if it was a bit wobbly. The breaking point for me came after someone posted my cell phone number on a porn website, accompanied by a naked, photoshopped picture of Jenelle, one of the other girls featured on
Teen Mom 2
. I believe they wanted to pass the photo off as me, but despite how ridiculous this was, my phone started blowing up with calls from California to China. At first I answered the calls, not knowing who could possibly be on the other end of the phone. I regretted it immediately. The string of calls were from sleazy guys saying explicitly sexual things about the photo. The person who put my information out on the Internet clearly intended for me to become the target of harassment. The bullying was terrible. Being harassed from around the world was definitely a new experience, but one I’d sooner not have had. In addition to the porn site, my number was posted on Craigslist as though I were selling a mini fridge. The disturbing thing was that the person behind the posting must have been someone close to me. Otherwise, how would they have gotten hold of my private cell number?

No matter how hard I tried to rise above it all, incidents like this began to eat away at me. I took every comment to heart and even considered deleting my Twitter account. Not only was I listening to people who really knew nothing about me, I actually began to believe their negative opinions. Like most teenage girls, I already struggled with insecurities about my self-image. Having my imperfections broadcast on television, like the days I had a skin flare up or a bloated stomach from my period, only intensified those insecurities.

Now that I was on television, I no longer had control of my own image. I hated seeing my face and my body on the TV screen. Every flaw, down to the last stray hair, was magnified by each close up shot. Most people on television have makeup artists, hair stylists, and a wardrobe team to transform them into glamorous superstars. I had a tube of mascara, a brush, and a closet full of leggings and sweatshirts. Not to say I needed any of that big production stuff, but there is a certain elegance required for the on air look and I definitely did not have the resources to pull it off.

But it wasn’t just the physical that was being judged, my personality was under the microscope as well. In reality television, there is no middle ground. If you’re too monotone, people accuse you of being a miserable bitch. If you’re too bubbly and happy, you’re accused of being a fake bitch. Without really knowing me at all, people accused me of being selfish, of being a bad mother because I warmed Isaac’s milk up in the microwave. I was branded incapable of monogamy because I had cheated on Jordan with Jo. Worst of all, was how people judged my relationship with my parents. I was accused of being shallow because of my decision to cut them out of my life.

When I signed on to do
Teen Mom 2
, I had no idea how much of an affect the negative attention would have on my self-esteem. I wasn’t sure anymore if I could justify the short-term pain for the long-term goal of sharing my story and helping young girls like me. I had always been my toughest critic, but I was feeling more critical of myself than ever. I let the hate soak in and allowed the negative comments to overshadow the love and support I did receive. There were times I even felt suicidal, but I managed to stabilize myself when I hit that low point.

I just needed a reminder of what the bigger picture was. It’s easy to lose sight of the important things when you are so focused on the negativity of your situation. I had Isaac, my sweet, innocent boy. I was being selfish. The important lesson I have learned from that difficult period of my life is that ‘tough times don’t last, but tough people do.’

***

Flying across the country was a luxury in itself. Los Angeles was a world away from what I was used to. Then again, everything that was happening in those days was completely new to me. Filming for the reunion special was more extravagant than I had expected. After I arrived in LA, I was driven to a large warehouse that had been transformed into a makeshift studio, almost like a film set. The hustle and bustle around me was mesmerizing. I couldn’t believe I was part of this! Before I could really take in the atmosphere, I was shown to my own private dressing room. I definitely was not used to that kind of star treatment.

Turn on the bright lights and paint my face with makeup. It’s studio television, ladies and gentlemen. I wasn’t sure if adrenaline was kicking my body into high gear or if it was just the anxiety I had been struggling with over the years, but my heart was racing, beating faster with every second that we came closer to rolling. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep my body still enough so I didn’t appear fidgety. This wasn’t my first televised interview, but I doubt being in the spotlight will never feel normal.

It’s pretty typical for reality television shows to have a reunion episode in which the entire cast is brought together to talk about the season and provide updates for what’s happened in their lives. I had already done a similar reunion for
16 and Pregnant
, but since I had been a last minute addition to that show, meeting the other teen mothers had felt brief and disconnected.

Teen Mom 2
had narrowed the cast from that season of
16 and Pregnant
from eight down to four—Jenelle, Leah, Chelsea, and me. Now, instead of being one of many, I was a part of a much smaller cast—although, obviously we didn’t film together because the show follows each of us individually in our hometowns. Although it was exciting to be part of this reunion episode, what I cared most about was getting to meet the other girls from the show. The other three girls knew one another from the
16 and Pregnant
reunion, Leah and Chelsea in particular had already passed the acquaintance stage and were able to chat comfortably. At the time, I didn’t really know much about them beyond what I had seen on the show, but I hoped the
Teen Mom 2
reunion would help me to better understand the girls I had been watching on TV.

I was excited to get past the awkward beginning stages of friendship because we had all been through such similar experiences. Since none of my friends had ever been through it themselves, they couldn’t relate to my life as a teen mother. On top of that, I was having my life televised, which was completely abnormal to everyone around me. Jenelle, Chelsea, and Leah understood both. Friendship was a given in my mind. I thought it was going to be easy to connect and become instant friends and when that didn’t happen I worried that we might never be friends.

At first, I had felt out of place because at the
16 and Pregnant
reunion it had felt like none of the other cast members were making an effort to talk to me and I had instinctively shut down. This time, I was determined to let down my guard. Initially, I gravitated toward the other girl who seemed to float on the same plane as me. The unpredictable Jenelle had a fighting spirit I could relate to. We became friends, while Chelsea and Leah had bonded before I even stepped into the room.